All these useless notes won't save me anyhow, yet I still have hope that maybe you're still reading them.

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Warning, the following content you will be reading will contain these contents below. Please read carefully to avoid triggers. - Panic Attacks - Alcohol - Relapsing

If these topics make you uncomfortable, uneasy, or trigger you in any way, please remove/refrain yourself from reading any further. Your mental health matters more than a book.

Also hey lol sorry for not posting any helium deflates content I've been struggling with a lot but you know that'll be ok I pull through in the end.

(Note: just know that a lot of us were taking turns on writing so it's sloppy. We also don't have art yet for this chapter. It's still in the makings. Expect that soon.)

This chapter was edited -

OJ stood in the kitchen, sitting at the island that was placed in the middle of the room. He had a stool to sit on. Papers scattering the surface area with red scribbles drawn over them. OJ hung his head into the palm of his hands and pinched the bridge of his nose, his glasses pushed his glasses on top of his head. Letting out a heavy sigh, he glanced over to his left, staring at the cabinets with slight hesitation before getting up and walking over. A hand moving to the handles before retreating them behind his back as he heard a familiar voice.

"Morning OJ." Baseball's drained and sleepy tone echoed slightly in the room. OJ faced Baseball and slowly folded his arms.

"Oh, Hey Baseball. Sleep alright?" Baseball let out a slight mocking chuckle at this.

"Hardly, I woke up to mutters and the door being wide open so the hallway light kept shining in my eyes. I also kept hearing thrashing and clanging." The red head grumbled, but shook his head and slightly smiled. "But other than that I did sleep a little bit better than most nights. Probably because Nickel wasn't there to constantly wake me up with his sleep talking." OJ gave Baseball a smile in return.

"Ah well, that's good to hear." OJ moved back to his sitting area, gathering his papers and stacked them neatly on top of each other. "Is there a reason why Nickel wasn't in your guy's room?" He raised an eyebrow, not facing the man that now hovered over his shoulders. Baseball was silent.

"I was actually— gonna ask you that."

"What do you mean? He hasn't- returned?" OJ suddenly faced Baseball with slight concern. Baseball shook his head.

"No, he didn't even let me know why he did. All I remember was turning over and him talking to someone at the door before leaving it wide open."

OJ stared for a moment, "That's unlike him. He usually doesn't leave the hotel unless we bicker him for groceries." Baseball only shrugged.

"I'm worried, I tried texting and calling but saw he didn't even bring his phone, left it on his bed."

"Why would he—"

Their conversation was suddenly put to a holt, Trophy walking in with a grouchy face.

"OJ what the hell man?! I thought you handled the raccoon situation!" He glared at the fruitful drink, standing infront of the two. But all OJ could do was give a confused face, rubbing his face and shook his head.

"Trophy, what are you going on about I handled that several months ago."

"Apparently not! I walked into the weight lifting room only to see a punching bag ripped wide open! It was like a bear was trying to wrestle with the damn thing I had to pick up all the shit that was left behind!"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, not only that, the supply closet was apparently robbed. The tool box was completely empty by the time I went in there! I couldn't even hang up a new bag because of it!" OJ lifted a hand to try and settle the heated man down.

"Ah— Trophy please calm down! I'll call animal control again to check for raccoons and I'll try finding out where the tools went."

"You better! I had to spend half of my morning picking up that shit!" OJ was taken back by this response.

"Ah- excuse me? Don't talk to me that way—"

"Hey has anyone seen my duffel bag? I kinda- need it for my guitar shit." Knife suddenly walked in, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

OJ felt his eye twitch, sulking his head into his hands again and groaned loudly.

The snow crunched from beneath their boots. Humming sweetly as they held their duffel bag, a coat over their body. The snow tickled their nose. Smiling softly from the comfort of the cold. They made their way to the hotel as if they just got back from the store. Looking at the trees that were covered in sheets of white snow. It was beautiful. It was perfect. They soon walked to the doors of the hotel and opened it, struggling to close the door behind them from the strong gust of wind. Finally closing it, with snow being collected at the doors. Setting the bag down, they took off their coat and hung it onto the coat rack. Making their way to the stairs they stopped in their tracks as they heard bickering from the other room. Curious, they rushed to their room and threw the bag on top of their bed and moved back down the stairs. Now standing at the entrance of the kitchen. Watching the four men go back and forth with each other, slightly amused at this. OJ suddenly looked at Balloon as if his eyes were pleading for help.

"Ah! Balloon! Buddy! Pal! You know where Nickel is? Rightt?" OJ smiled nervously. The three other men blinked in confusion and stared at Balloon. Waiting for their answer.

They became stiff, not expecting the sudden question. "..uh." Balloon chewed the inside of their cheek. Feeling their heart begin to pound in panic. Eyes darting around the room for an excuse, any excuse, they needed to get themselves out of this situation immediately. Before staring at the fridge. "..g—groceries..? He.. told me he needed to get..groceries." they stared hopelessly at the four.

"..oh, Well that makes sense." Baseball shrugged, walking out of the kitchen, now not having to reason to be in the room. OJ sighed in relief, mouthing a 'thank you' to Balloon as Balloon nodded slowly and gave him a nervous smile.

"Balloon!" Trophy suddenly stood infront of Balloon, "I need to show you something- some weird freaky shit happened in the work out room overnight." Balloon puckered their lips together, having felt Trophy's hand latching onto Balloon's wrist. Balloon swiping their arm away.

"I can walk just fine, you know."

Trophy didn't respond, only motioning Balloon to follow as the man scurried his way out the exit of the room. Knife just stood awkwardly as Balloon walked behind Trophy.

"..So..uh. Am I gonna have to buy a new duffel bag or are you gonna actually help me." Knife murmured to OJ.

"It was crazy, the bag was ripped open! I don't know what could've caused it other than an animal." Trophy ranted, the two walking up the stairs. Balloon felt the corner of their mouth twitch into a frown.

"Really?"

"Yeah! Some asshole took the tools in the supply closet too. Have to wait for OJ to figure that one out on who took it."

Balloon kept their eyes glued to the floor, staying quiet.

The two arrived at the messy room, the punching bag's insides scattered out onto the floor like shredded paper. Balloon nudged a piece of ugly fabric with their boot, still not uttering a word out. They couldn't get their mind off of what happened. What they committed, what they had just risked. Sure, they might of gotten off easy with a simple lie, how the copper coin needed to fetch some groceries. That was only temporary, however. It was only until a few hours that people will slowly start growing concerned. Will start actually searching for him. Balloon's eyebrows knitted together. A distasteful look on their face as they felt anxiety washing over their body. Their Adrenaline still pumping.

"—Balloon." Trophy's voice broke Balloon's trance, only to cause them to hum. "Are you alright? You keep staring, it's freaking me out."

"..Sorry. I'm fine. Just a long night." Balloon stuffed their hands into the pockets of their pants, "Did you just need me to show me a mess?" Trophy didn't answer, only cringing at the sharp dismissal of Balloon's tone. Only sighing and turned a shoulder. Balloon took this as a chance leave. Walking out of the room without another word.

With the narrow hall way being their only path to where they can make an escape the anguish of the dark night, they found their way into their little burrow. Closing the door behind them and pressed their back firmly against the wooden entryway. They found themselves sliding down the door and onto the floor, sitting hopelessly and peered at the shabby orange wall. Hand trembling, they shoved both of their hands onto their lap and continued their gaze. Feeling a burn in their eyes, and a quiver at their lip. Were they feeling guilt? Remorse? Shame? The feeling of that tool, feeling the shuddering as it burrowed its way into the meat of its prey. The feeling of the warm blood sticking onto their pants and onto their thighs. The screams, the crying, the choking and the meek man that laid against the wall. Now alone. Balloon could feel that loneliness. And now, all they could do was let out shaky sobs. No tears came out, only deep quick breaths. Hands moving to their face and felt their rough skin.

This was real, they thought. This wasn't a dream.

Oh god. What did they do?

There was an abrupt knock.

"Balloon? Balloon are you doing ok in there?"

Balloon sat there, praying that she would leave. Praying she would give up and just assume they weren't there. She shouldn't see them like this, not after what they did.

"Hello?"

They grunted, pulling at their hair in anger and stood up, facing the door and opened it, glaring at the girl that now stood in front of them. They felt their face soften though. "What?"

"I was wondering if you were ok, you didn't stop by yesterday and I got worried if something came up?" Suitcase fiddled with her bracelet, making eye contact with Balloon. Those damned brown eyes. With that bold staring, they felt as if she was sure to stare deep behind their lies. And stare directly at the filth, the crime that they committed. They blinked and looked away, tapping their finger behind the door that they held open.

"I'm fine, Just a bit upset. I got caught up with some stuff."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh god, yes. Yes I am sure." They glared at her before wincing. "I'm sorry— I really need to be alone right now.." They slowly closed the door only to have her jam her foot in between the frame and the door.

"Balloon, please, I'm no stranger. You can always talk to me." she gave them a frown. They stared at each other in silence, Balloon licked their dry lips as Suitcase looked hopeful.

"No- I'm fine, I promise! See?" They pointed at the forceful smile. Suitcase tilted her head before giving a faint laugh.

"Well.. if you ever want to hang out or talk just remember you can always come to me, ok? I love you." Suitcase's frown melted away, giving Balloon that smile. That smile that would never leave their mind. It created a mark, a mark that was carved deep into their brain.

"Yeah, sounds good!" They closed the door, pressing their forehead against it and sighed, they were tired.

The shuffling of sheets were loud in their ears, they murmured to themselves and turned over to the window. Eyes blinking awake as sleep still tugged at their eyes. They look at the window from where they laid bundled in their bed. It was night. They slept in again. Of course, this wasn't new to them. But it wasn't an enjoyable routine. They sat up in their bed and rubbed their eyes, hearing a cabinet open and shut. Odd. Usually no one would be awake other than them.

Balloon walked down the stairs and made their way to the kitchen, peaking their head in, they saw OJ sitting at the counter with a candle next to him. A bottle of alcohol right next to him. Balloon hesitated to enter, they turned around slowly and felt the floor board freak loudly, cursing under their breath as OJ's voice piped up.

"'Loon?.." his voice was groggy, and tired. They slowly turned around and slightly waved.

"Hey."

"..wah...what are you doing awake it's 12.." OJ yawned, rubbing his cheek and pushed his glasses on top of his head, pushing hair out of his face.

"I could ask you the same." Balloon slowly walked in, standing at the entrance. "..what's with the uhm..whole.." they motioned to the tall glass.

"Mmn.." OJ looked to his side to see the wine bottle, "ffshhit..no, god. I'm so sorry you shouldn't see me like this.." he shamefully held the bottle and hid it to his side, almost as if protecting it rather than hiding it. Balloon could only stare at the glass as it stared back right at them.

"..I thought you mentioned that you'd sober up after the whole..incident?" Balloon awkwardly rubbed their arm.

"Incident?.. Oh, No. No no.. I haven't.. I've been busy." OJ dismissed the comment, sluggishly sitting up as Balloon fully walked over, noticing the papers that still laid in-front of OJ. Has he been here all day?

"..How long were you—"

"A month."

"A month?"

"A month." OJ repeated himself, hiding his face in his palm. "I can't do anything right." He grumbled. Balloon felt their face flush, hadn't known what to do in a situation like this. Balloon understood the situation OJ was going through, but didn't understand how bad it could take a toll on the poor man. "I can't sober up, I can't get caught up on plans or bills, I can't..do anything right." OJ's head bowed, hands behind his head as his voice trembled. "I am not a good person."

"I mean, no one is perfect." Balloon spoke.

"Huh?"

"We all have some skeletons in our closet." Balloon shrugged, "There's a lot of mistakes people make." OJ tiredly looked at Balloon.

"Thanks..." He smiled, before frowning, seeing Balloon slowly retreat from the room they both occupied. "Where are you going?"

Balloon turned back to face OJ, their silhouette barely made out from the dark. Only their eyes that reflected off that candle light only to be made.

"Bed?"

"..Ah, good night, Balloon." OJ yawned.

"Goodbye OJ." Helium said, before walking into the dark hotel's embrace. And OJ was alone.

He hummed, looking at the candle. "..wonder where Nickel is."